


Cracks

by shadowmaster13



Category: Cape High Series - R.J. Ross
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon until the end of "Hello Kitty" and then OC exists, F/M, This school really should have had a teacher before, still no responsible adults though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaster13/pseuds/shadowmaster13
Summary: An adult super is about to get roped into the chaos of Cape High and find out a lot about herself. Cape High gets an actual teacher to make sure these kids know regular science as well as Mad science. And regular maths.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Felt fanficy, might write more later

I dodged the flying debris. In a second I needed to punch the concrete that the robot was going throw at me. My stomach growled and I bit back a curse. I was miked up for this fight, and ruining your shot at merchandising by annoying parents, was a bad idea.

Not that this was the sort of even that would have people jumping up and down for my action figure. If I even had an action figure. I’m Luisa Torres. I go by the name Lady StarFist in public.

The robot tears concrete from the building due for demolition and throws it at me. I waited and shove my right fist at it. The concrete cracks, but not cleanly in half. I grimace as pieces of the concrete slam into me. I’m definitely going to have a bruise around my ribs from that.

I put an arm across my chest just in case. The tailors always said it would be as strong as I was, and yet constantly I had to guard it to make sure the rips were strategic. I didn’t concrete and a robot to do to me what Justin Timberlake and terrible media CEO had done to Janet Jackson.

The concrete dust started to clear. After a quick check downward, I was relieved to note that my costume hadn’t torn in any NSFW ways.

The robot was still there. A slightly dusty steel, egg shaped robot designed for demolition and escape. I wasn’t sure quite what to do next. The robot was supposed to be gone by the time the dust cleared. The old cinema had been condemned for years, and the new owners had been keen to get publicity for their new restaurant, and save on the demolition costs.

East Hall always jumped on promo opportunities. RoboRanger had been quite clear he wasn’t taking a dive for any Class C Cape. Also that mocking his name wasn’t allowed. Not that I had the high ground on that front.

But I’d also been clear I wasn’t going to take a dive so he could run off. And frankly if his robot was broken, it would ruin the fun if I waited around for him to take off. I looked around, and made sure that there weren’t any civilians in danger, but nope. RoboRanger was a professional, as he’d insisted.

Right now that was a problem. I scrambled to the top of the rubble as slowly as I could without looking slower than normal. I dusted myself off and headed for the robot.

“NO SISSY LITTLE PINK WEARING LADY CAPE WILL TAKE DOWN THE ROBORANGER!”

There was a whoosh as engines fired on. And then a clunk as one of them failed. The machine careened, like everything that could go wrong, toward the crowd.

I jumped at the robot. Which normally wouldn’t help much, but I’m a super. As if the getting hit by concrete didn’t spoil that for you. I’m strong. Strong enough to leap the height of a fairly small building. I hit the robot fist first about halfway between the crowd and my original position. Metal crashed against me and we fell to the ground.

The burners? Were still firing wildly. I frowned. If I didn’t take them out, someone would get hurt. Jumping near the closest burner, I slammed my fist into the joint attaching it to the robot. Metal separated loudly. I clamped a fuel line by crushing the steal around it with her fist.

The robot wasn’t trying to take off anymore which was a step up. I destroyed the other burner, and jumped to the top of the robot. There was a really obvious hatch. Digging her fingers in, I wrenched the thing open. Metal screamed, and rivets popped loose, but the hatch was open.

An ejector seat launched. I realised too late that I should have let him escape. I grabbed the chair and yanked it back down. I wrapped a hand around the wrist of the other Cape.

“What are you doing?” The robot’s PA system was unfortunately still working. Even RoboRanger made a face when he heard it.

“I’m doing my job to stop evildoers,” I say. Whatever PA system my microphone was connected to, it’s not anymore. I winced. I wanted to apologise, but it hadn’t been my malfunctioning robot.

“Stop evildoers? I’m no evildoer, this is just a misunderstanding!” RoboRanger cried. He might be annoyed, but he was a good sport.

I tried to project my voice so his mike would pick it up, but I’d never been good at theatre. “You can wait right here with me until the rest of the Hall arrive to sort you out.”

RoboRanger nodded. He pressed something on a cuff. Figured he would have a connection to the Hall, while I couldn’t even have her mike work for an entire fight.

The Black Suits had been nearby, ready for the proper clean up to start, so it didn’t take them long to arrive. I got into the front of one of the cars, while RoboRanger was cuffed and put in the back.

They’d barely gone around the corner when his wrists were free.

“What the hell were you thinking? I specifically said I wasn’t diving for you. And you signed off on it.”

“It’s not a dive if you lost,” I say. “Was I supposed to let your robot crash into the crowd? I punch shit, you’re supposed to be a good builder, the robot’s your thing.”

“I can not believe I’m going to go down having been taken out by Lady Punchesalot,” he griped.

“Hey. Lady Star Fist is pretty meaningful to me. If it helps, I didn’t mean to catch your eject chair, I just sort of did it.”

“It doesn’t,” he said.

They were led into the Hall. I headed to the Tailor’s office to make him sad again. Or his staff. As far as my experience went only the big names got specialised attention.

And afterward I sat through an explanation of why I’d done wrong for grabbing RoboRanger’s chair.

At least I wasn’t being chewed out by Negatia. Although, that would mean Negatia actually cared? She was still busy trying to get Sonic’s kid back under wraps.

Since the last I’d heard of him, Maximum was invading his half-time show at the super bowl, it wasn’t going well. Maximum was an odd one. Half-Asian kid with gravity powers. Powers aren’t supposed to show up out of nowhere, but I didn’t know any other Capes who had gravity powers in the Hall. The Hall in general hadn’t had a lot of Capes of colour until fairly recently either, which was probably one of the good things that had come out of Superior’s death

And of course my powers don’t have a history either. Not that I know. You think being the only brown kid in you school is tough? Add on super powers. It’s a real laugh a minute. My mother doesn’t have any powers, and swears my dad didn’t either.

Since I couldn’t afford college, and my only marketable skill was being able to leap (the height of) fairly small buildings, take a slab of concrete to the face and heal bruises within days, I joined the Hall.

I’d been pretty starry eyed at eighteen. Fresh out of high school. For one, I’d though the fights were real. The fighting was more wrestling on TV than the Olympics. And sometimes they were real, but nothing a C Class like me would go near.

For two, I’m apparently C Class. Not even close to somebody like America’s Son or Star Spangled, or even MasterMental. They’re S-Class, not only are they a lot stronger than me, they can fly. Like actually fly, not just jump real high.

At first some people thought I might be able to fly because, well I do get ridiculous hang time when I do my big jumps. But, being pushed off things just left me with bruises.

For three, apparently most Capes have side jobs, and they retire when they get too old. Since for four, the stronger a super you are the longer you’re going to live. There is apparently an entire retirement community up in the Arctic.

North branch supers, who rotate in here occasionally, complain a lot about the retirees. They’re so bored they make themselves nuisances to the humans.

So I got co-signed on a bunch of student loans for my second job.

You know the Friends theme tune? Imagine that but you don’t really have friends. I’m not really strong compared to supers, but I’m way to strong for humans.

I broke a guy’s ribs hugging him once. We weren’t even dating. It was our first meeting. And frankly most of the other supers around my age are either in a completely different branch, taken, not into women, or out of my league strength wise.

Being a tank that’s not strong enough to hang with your fellow supers is pretty awkward.

What’s a tank? As far as super powers go, it’s not exciting. I’m super tough, really strong, and I have a really wobbly form of invulnerability. It sounds exciting but, someone like Firefly has all of that, and then those wicked electricity powers.

But I don’t know of many tanks that bruise. I’m always bruising. My skin doesn’t cut, and I haven’t ever broken a bone, but I apparently do have internal bleeding.

I heal fast though. The bruises usually look faded yellow by day two, and gone the day after. Still they’re tender. And you would not believe how much you need to eat to catch up on that stuff. More than a teacher’s salary.

Yeah, I’m a teacher, and a Caped superhero. Well no actual cape, I watched the Incredibles as a kid. Also I’m pretty sure the tailor couldn’t have cared less. I’d say something about how all teachers are heroes, but since that includes me it’s a little weird to say. But I will say that we definitely need a raise.

Because I will be on that picket line.

I head for the Cafeteria. A free meal is a free meal. I’m a little younger than a lot of the heroes working in this Hall, so I don’t really have anyone to hang out with.

I don’t know how to fix it, since even though they barely look older than me; a lot of them are in their fifties at the earliest. They have lives; some of them even have young kids. The ones with high school aged kids and know I’m a teacher are the worst.

They either want me to explain why their kids aren’t at fault or why their kid is at fault, and... I don’t teach any super kids. I keep an eye out, because I know what it’s like to be a new line.

“Hey, Luisa, did you see that interview?” one of the black suits asks me.

“What interview?”

“They let Technico out of the cells, and apparently he’s the principal of a high school for Capes.”

I frown. I understand why I’m being asked. “They’re getting someone who went to the Cape Cells to teach children?”

“He’s been given parole.”

I don’t know why I’m less upset than the black suit, considering it’s their job to keep people in the Cells. “What did he do?”

“He made Death Canyon.”

My eyebrows fly up, “And he’s out? And teaching kids. He’s a supervillian who got put in the Cells.”

“You have a problem with supervillians?”

“Well he can’t have been a very good one, since he created a radioactive canyon and got arrested for real,” I say.

The black suit nods in acknowledgment. “I heard he trained Firefly though.”

“Even giving her credit for improvement on her own, that is impressive,” I say. Firefly not having a movie is proof that Hollywood doesn’t like money as much as they say they do.

“So you going to apply?” he asks.

I shrug, “Are they going to take applications? Where is it?”

“There’s a building in Death Canyon now,” he says.

I shrug, “Central Hall. Sure, if MasterMental asks for applications. I guess it’s not radioactive then, because kid capes seems like the type to be most vulnerable that.”

The suit shrugs back. “Well, keep your eyes peeled I guess.”

I kind of forgot about it after that. I mean, I heard when Taurus got tapped to be a teacher. Which I was jealous of OK? I’m an actual teacher. And I couldn’t even complain, because I know he’s a good trainer. He helped train _me_ when I first joined the hall.

But aren’t these kids supposed to learn Maths or English properly? I’m an actual teacher, and a Cape. And I’m very, very jealous.

Hell, RoboRanger was getting a move and a name change apparently, which meant my regular Cape gig was gone.

Someone asked me once when I first joined the Hall if I would give up my powers. I said no, but the answer is more than just no. I LIKE my powers. I could only like them more if the time I was thrown off a building to see if I could fly hadn’t ended with a my-face shaped dent in the pavement below.

And then the call went out. Everyone heard about it. The Collector, which was a Norm’s name, had been using Shadowman to grab Cape kids.

The children who were new lines or the children of unregistered D-class supers. Luisa was angry. Most of the capes who heard about it were angry. The only ones who were less angry than Luisa were parents themselves.

But the sudden influx of kids to the school meant there was an opportunity.

I limped home one night after I’d allowed The Bear Lake monster to escape with his purloined pearls. This was probably a personal low point. My unit was on the seventh floor. Which was normally nothing to climb all the stairs to reach, but tonight I was feeling pretty bummed about it.

I slumped on my couch and flicked on the TV to HeroTV. They’re rerunning an interview with Technico, from back when the school was first announced. Frankly his insistence he wanted to be fired was reassuring. It shouldn’t be, but it had been.

“That was our interview with Technico from earlier this year,” Prisma says. “We’re replaying it to familiarise you with the principal at Cape High, based here in Central Hall.”

_This must be a rebroadcast._

“Today, after the rescue of Lady Rose from the villainous scientist after almost two years in captivity, the daughter of Panther was almost abducted during a visit there. After investigation, Technico has discovered the source of the threat, a man calling himself The Collector.”

I got up and slowly started making myself something to eat.

“MasterMental has released a statement, that pending the discovery of any familial connections the children will be cared for in the Dormitories of Cape High. The security has been vastly increased and no one should have any worry about their current physical safety.”

“The need for increased supervision means that they are accepting application for the school,” Prisma finishes.

I look at the screen. There’s a quick little bit.ly style link. Before I even really think about it, I’ve opened it up using my phone. The application’s pretty basic. Name, power set, qualifications. Google autofills most of it. I fill out the power set and hit submit. It comes back with an error. I haven’t selected my class.

I close my phone and finished getting something to eat instead. I have mostly forgotten it when I come back to check something.

It sits there, mocking me. I’d be a good teacher, so why am I hesitating to fill in my class. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Most supers like me aren’t like A class. Not unless they’re aliens like Cosmic or something.

And yet I select B from the list and submit. I won’t get picked and I can just say there was a mistake if I am.

I got to sleep and wake up to a phone call.

“Lady Star?”

I blink a little groggily and look at the time. “It’s five thirty!”

“Evidently,” says the far more awake person on the other end of the line, “it is seven am in Central. Can you run to Kansas City?”

“Kansas or Missouri?”

“Would that make a big difference?”

“Yeah I can run over a thousand miles, why?”

“Central Hall has gone through the submissions they got about teachers. They want to talk to you.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and sat up. “Negatia?”

“Yes.”

I felt like I was being pranked. “Who wants to talk to me?”

“Nico and Mega, the Cape High principal and vice-principal. If you can make it by ten am Central time, that’d help.”

“I don’t know that I can do 500 miles an hour. I’m not a speedster.”

“Alright pack a bag. I’ll tell them to expect you after lunch. That’s only 300 miles an hour.”

_Three pm is after lunch, right?_

“I’ll pack some spare shoes too I guess. Alright, I’ll leave as soon as my bag is packed,” I said.

The phone hung up. I felt a sense of dread about the form I’d filled out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico is not a conventional interviewer. And Luisa is kind of bad at interviewing

I left around six thirty after packing, panicking and getting breakfast. I get into Kansas City a little before two. I might have been faster if I hadn’t needed to stop to confirm I was headed in the right direction and get lunch. What? I get hungry really easy and I’ve heard about Kansas barbecue before.

Still As soon as I hit the city limits I start to slow down. Speed and accuracy aren’t helpful when you don’t know where you are.

I’ve heard about Death Canyon, every now and then they do a human interest story about it and interview the guy who was working down the street. He wasn’t anywhere near the blast, but it was probably scary. But they don’t really give an exact address I can put into my phone for it. According to Google, Death Canyon’s not a real place.

I’m standing on a corner and googling. Because this is technically official, I’m in uniform. A secret identity is like a boundary. Even if you know who I am, if I’m not in uniform, I’m not on duty.

“Who the hell are you?” Someone asks.

I resist the urge to flip him off and instead smile, “I’m Lady Star Fist. I’m in town visiting. I don’t suppose you can point me in the direction of the Hall?”

He reacts very differently. “Oh, no problem.” He points North-East, “It’s about ten minutes that way. You can’t miss the building.”

I nod and jog off. My legs are kind of tired and commuters hate it when you’re running faster than they can go. I also don’t want to go so fast that I miss it. I’m not even supposed to go to the Hall, but surely someone will be able to give me directions from there.

The school’s supposed to be a secret from norms, so I don’t want to be the reason they start poking around the location.

The local was right. The Hall is hard to miss. After an embarrassing moment where I can’t get into the private section, Falconess gave me directions to Death Canyon.

My blush is down to a level that’s invisible to most white people by the time I get to the Death Canyon. Death Canyon was big news. It was a whole disaster during the run up to the election year primaries. I just remember my mother being very scared about something. Still whenever we covered anything about supers in school, someone would inevitably bring it up. It was basically the best and most recent example of both a super going to the Cape Cells, and the supers having jurisdiction over supers.

Part of me is kind of excited to see it. But the tape warning people to keep out aside, it’s not very exciting actually. It was 10 miles wide, and well, it’s not really as majestic as the Grand Canyon. I’d run to see that right after high school, when I was hopped up on having a costume and being able to use my powers in public for the first time.

There are a couple buildings in the depth of it. One, which looks like the most obvious kind of school. The style is the same as every school I went to. Most of those were newer, but still around twenty years old by now.

There another building next to it, a large gym and some sort of running area? I’ve heard something about the security being added or removed, so I decide to call. I have Negatia’s number from this morning and call it. She doesn’t answer.

Someone else does.

“Why are you standing outside my school?” It’s a man’s voice.

I look around. “Who is this?”

“Nico. Who are you?”

This voice comes from within earshot. I turn around and look up to see a very smug looking man flying just above my head height. He has black hair with a streak of white. He’s like six five and pretty good looking for an older super. They tend to have a look in their eyes. He doesn’t look that much older than me, except for his eyes. And he’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Uhh, Lady Star Fist? Negatia told me you wanted to talk to me. For an interview?” My heart is sinking. I'd known Technico was a technopath. But he could fly too. The guilt burns with jealously in my gut.

He looks up into the sky and then nods. “Double M might’ve said something about it. Alright. This way then. You know that outfit’s very pink right?”

“I did ask for pink,” I say. Did he think I might’ve accidentally washed my costume with a red sock or something?

“Okay,” He turns midair, and floats toward the edge of the canyon. “Normally if you approach without permission the security measures would take you out. Unless… how durable are you?”

“I’m just going to guess, not that durable,” I follow him, but I don’t get too lose.

“Alright.” He snaps his fingers and holds up a tablet. “Hand.”

I put my hand on it. He takes it back taps it a few times and then scans me with a green light. “Interesting.”

“Whoa, what’s that scan?”

“Basic power level scan nothing to worry about.”

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask.

“Nothing. Compare it to anyone with similar result. Similar scans usually means similar powers,” Technico says. He’s tapping on the tablet as if there’s nothing to worry about.

“And how do you store that information. In a database? I’m not sure I like you having that information.”

“You don’t want to help others with your abilities?”

“And you promise that’s all you’ll ever do with it?” I ask. I’m starting to feel angry. Registrations of people are problematic. I hate when people datamine from information that was given for other purposes.

“I promise that’s all I’ll do with your data,” he shrugs. He sounds bored and annoyed.

I’m not convinced. “How secure is the data?”

“As secure as it can be. It’s not accessible to anyone but me,” he says.

“Isn’t one of your children a technopath? Is it safe from them?” I ask.

He pauses. “She wouldn’t do anything with it either.”

“So by allowing you to keep this data, I’m allowing any technopath to use it?”

“What would it be useful for?”

“Specialised power blocking, like the Cells have?” I suggest.

He rubs a thumb on his chin, “That’s not a bad idea you know.”

“I’m not so thick I can’t have ideas because I’m a tank,” I say. “And the point of my concern is that I don’t consent to you making specialised power blockers using information obtained for a job interview. And that goes for any other crazy ideas you have.”

“I don’t need to use this information to destroy you,” he says confidently.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about you or any other technopath creating something that they hand to someone else. You don’t even seem worried about someone stealing all the info you collected and doing harm with it.”

“I use this information to track you for entering into secure places, including Death Canyon, the school and the apartment building,” Technico says. He points to a building on the other side of the street. “I also use it for comparisons to other supers, especially students because it can be used to determine powers they might develop and the eventual strength of them. I promise not to use your info for anything else.”

I shrug. It’s more than facebook ever promised. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

A series of bright footprints lit up on the ground. “Step as closing in those as you can.”

I do, worried that even a millimetre out of place will have a laser explode me or something.

“Perfect. Alright, I can give you the penny tour.” He drops to the ground and walks ahead of me, he points out the dormitory, “We weren’t expecting it to get so much use so early on, but there’s a room in there for you. Or in the apartments but, we really need an adult in there.”

He points out a gym and a mad science building. “You mean science,” I correct.

“Nope,” Technico says. “Mad science. Don’t have a science building.”

“Surely mad science requires a foundation of norm science,” I say, struggling to keep up with the pace of everything.

“Probably. We mainly have specialised instructors, so the normal school stuff has been a little…”

“Undercooked,” I suggest. You shouldn’t be surprised by how often this sort of thing happens. A lot of specialised schools like this seem to think that no one will ever need another skill set. Trade schools, performing arts. Well the kinds I’ve applied for anyway. I usually don’t make comments like this, and wonder if it’s worse or better that I’m saying it out loud here.

“That’s not inaccurate.”

He leads me to an office that, well; it looks like a bond villain’s lair. Flat screen TVs everywhere, all with something else on it, and an intimidating looking computer. There are two keyboards, but I can’t tell if they’re plugged into the same machine, different ones, or none.

“Let me set up the— camera.” A camera builds itself on the desk pointed at me. The screen behind his head flickers, changing colours, text flashes it across. I close my eyes to avoid a headache.

“Ahh. Miss Torres?”

My eyes open. I can’t imagine that anyone in the world wouldn’t recognise MasterMental. Sitting next to him in an office was Mega. It’s one thing to hear that MasterMental wants to talk to you and another to see him actually talking to you.

“Ms Torres, actually,” I say because my mouth is faster than my brain.

“Oh, of course. My apologies,” MasterMental says. Mega scrunched his nose. I didn’t know what that meant. He probably had an itchy nose, right? I know that some supers are a little old fashioned, and correcting someone like MasterMental is probably bad for getting hired.

“And you go by… Lady Star Fist?” Technico asks. He’s staring at a tablet, looking a little horrified.

I feel blood rushing to my checks, “Yes.”

I like my name. But everyone treats it like a joke, and so I feel embarrassed. I’ve thought about changing it, but sunk cost fallacy I guess.

“Excellent. So, you’re a teacher?”

"I’m a middle and high school teacher, freshmen and sophomores mostly,” I say.

“Can you teach juniors and seniors? We’re planning on them graduating from sophomore year eventually,” Technico says.

“I can. I think I probably have more experience teaching in general than you do,” I say. This is the real reason I don’t have many friends. I have no tact. I had wanted for knowing other people with powers to change things but it didn’t. Mainly because my way of dissecting another super’s fight comes out like I’m I saying I know better.

“How many people have you developed training plans for?” he asks. He doesn’t sound upset, more curious.

I shrug, “None. But you you’re asking about teaching experience. Since this is a school.”

“Cape High is a school that will be focused on training young supers with their abilities and how to work within the system without risking ending up in the Cells,” MasterMental explains.

I bite my lip. I’m not tactful, but even I know when a thought is inappropriate. I’m glad MasterMental is not in the room.

“It’s a vocational school,” I say. “So it means that adapting teaching to different learning styles is important. But the students aren’t going to be acting as heroes or villains all the time. They’re going to want a high school diploma.”

“Max already has his GED, he’s going to be focused on his powers training,” MasterMental says.

“Max?” I ask.

“You probably know him as Maximum,” MasterMental says. There’s a hint of… pride in his voice.

I still can’t quite see how the relation would work. Gravity powers aren’t really telepathically related. But weirder familial connections exist in the super world. I try to bite back the tactless question but it comes out anyway. “Are you related?”

Technico laughs.

“Yes.” MasterMental sounds annoyed. He probably thinks that it’s because they’re both Asian. Right now I want MasterMental rifling through my brain so he knows better. “He’s quite pleased to be going to school.”

I nod. “A safe environment for powered kids is important for a lot of reasons.”

“Max isn’t the only one who is doing better for having contact with his peers. But he is the only one who has completed his academic schooling already,” MasterMental says.

I’m sure that of the people in this interview, I have the most recent, and awkward memories of a high school situation. I didn’t feel too bad about it. There’s something about being as tough as I am that gives you a sense of security.

“You’re B class?” Technico asks.

I grimace. I have to correct this before we get any further. “No. I must have made a mistake on the form.”

“Oh good. I was wondering why you would lie.” Technico said. “Well more that most people would lie and raise their ranking not lower it..”

If this were a movie, I would have been able to do a spit take. Instead I just choked on air. When I recovered I apologised, “I’m sorry. I’m not B class. I’m C class.”

“Nonsense. I scanned you myself,” Technico waves a hand and the tablet floats up.

“I was there when they assessed me,” I say. MasterMental and Mega don’t so much look uncomfortable, as like they would rather not be involved in this discussion.

“Here,” Technico passed me the tablet. A mess of numbers and frequencies are visible.

“I can teach Math, I’m not that good at it.”

He frowns at the tablet and then flicks his fingers. He turns it around. Now there’s a blank human figure line drawing and a grid next to it. It’s mostly red, with a little bit of silver blue. So little that it’s probably a rounding error.

“I still don’t know what this means.”

“I’ve decided I’ll hire her.” Technico says. The screen behind him goes blank.

“What’s going on?” I ask. Whatever’s going on seems to be escalating rapidly and I’m still not sure what it is.

“I’ve sent MasterMental a request to come here. I think that it’s best he be involved.”

There’s not much I can do. But I really wish there were. I’m pretty sure whatever the power scan shows is why I got hired, not my actual skills.

“I would have anyway, to be clear,” Technico says as if he read my mind, “But this is a very interesting bonus. Here.”

He passes me a different tablet. I open it and see files. “Sunny Rosenthorn?” The picture looks a lot like a younger Technico. “You have a son?”

“Twins, actually,” he says. He looks scary just now.

“I take it they’re still coming into their powers?” I ask.

“They are. Sunny is the reason that specialised power training is first hour. He needs the sun or he won’t concentrate right. Zoe is destroying tech right now.”

I flick the files to the second page and see Zoe’s. She’s a technopath. I nod. “I destroyed a couple phones, but not like that.”

“You’re the first person in your family to have powers?”

I shrug, “As far as I know. My father died when I was little and my mother is definitely a Norm.”

The door opens and MasterMental enters. “Mega is not pleased you cut him out of this.”

“It’s not his business, Double M,” Technico says.

“Are you going to explain now?” I ask.

“Well, you’re probably a new line,” Technico says. “Because I’ve not seen scans quite like yours before.”

“I’m a tank. How different can my scans be?”

“For one, they’re reading like your powers aren’t quite finished growing. And for another the specialisation you have is completely unique. It doesn’t compare to anyone I have information on. Between the Halls and our relationship with Mexico I should know something.”

Only supers would look at me and forget to make assumptions about my family. I say, “Well, my parents are from South America.”

Technico frowns. “Where in South America?”

I’m really glad that this conversation isn’t also to the screen anymore. “My mother’s from Brazil—”

“It’s not from there.” Technico shakes his head.

“— but like I said, she’s a Norm. And my father was from Ecuador,” I finish.

He frowns. “It could be him. I don’t have anything from the supers in that part of the continent.”

“I don’t quite get the secrecy.” I say. I look between them and try to keep from making a face.

“What Technico is saying, is that you’re still in the phase of your powers developing where, relatively speaking, you’re vulnerable,” MasterMental says, like he’s breaking some bad news to me.

“I’m a working Cape. And Technico said I’m apparently A class.”

“You should be able to fly,” Technico says. “Has anyone ever dropped you from a height?”

“Yes. I broke the pavement with my face. I don’t think gravity works right when I jump, but it’s really not flying,” I say.

“I would like for you to participate in training here, as well as teaching,” Technico says.

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “I suppose between that and the room and board I won’t be getting paid?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” MasterMental says. “You’ll be being paid commensurate with your tasks.”

Technico shrugs, “The training will have to be in your spare time.”

The problem with crossing your arms is that you can’t do it again. I clench my fist below my arm. “What kinds of lesson plans do you have?”

Technico shrugs. “I’m working on the order. Trent’s still trying to figure out—”

I don’t bother asking who Trent is. I assume he’s in the files on the tablet. “Not those lessons. The actual schoolwork. You know Math, English, Science.”

“Mad Science,” Technico corrected.

“Mad science is not a 101 course,” I say. “And passing the GED or getting a diploma will need regular science.”

MasterMental nods. “It’s good that you’re a teacher. We’re a little overstocked on specialists right now.”

“Like who?” I ask. I can see weeks of work to get basic lesson plans in shape. I uncross my arms and put my hands on the chair rests.

“Banshee, Taurus, Blackjack.”

Literally all of them are above my weight class. “What grades are the students in?”

“At the moment we have kids from eighth grade through junior year. But most of them are sophomores and juniors,” Technico says.

I feel my eyes going wide. “So only four years worth of lesson plans for every class then?”

“You don’t need plans,” Technico says. He doesn’t really look like he’s concentrating. Some of his things are floating around.

I snort. “I don’t need to obey them, but the structure of a plan helps you keep place correctly.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it so much,” Technico says. Something in the way he says it tells me I definitely need to worry about it.

“I don’t know what spare time I’m expected to have. Unless the others are intending to start writing lesson plans.”

“You’re going to be so tired from training, you won’t have time to do much else.”

I frown. “What training am I supposed to be doing? I already have control of my abilities.”

“The abilities you know about,” Technico says. He’s looking at the tablet again. He’s doing something I can’t see with it.

I look at my feet. Then I look up. “I’ll take the job. I don’t need to do the training though. I know about my abilities.”

MasterMental says, “I’ll talk to Negatia about getting you transferred. How do you feel about having to go dormant as a hero?”

I think about it for a while and shrug. “I think that the comic book writers will probably get over it. It’s not permanent right? Can I still go back to see my mom?”

“I will make sure that you are still permitted in West Hall so you can visit her. And of course, I would not blame you for any action that becomes necessary, but we would like you to be focused on teaching instead of heroics,” MasterMental says.

I nod. “That’s understandable.”

“And someone will teach you to fly,” Technico says.

I roll my eyes and consider it progress at keeping my mouth shut.


End file.
